


tonight and tomorrow and all the days after

by bipolaryangxiaolong (rosesandcinnamon)



Series: wings of wax [10]
Category: RWBY
Genre: F/F, That's it, they're in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-05 07:11:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15858753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosesandcinnamon/pseuds/bipolaryangxiaolong
Summary: They're quiet in the dark, and Blake is almost asleep when Yang shifts. “I meant it,” she whispers.“What?” Blake isn't bothered- Yang never shuts up.“I'm gonna marry you,” she says.





	tonight and tomorrow and all the days after

“Blake,” Yang says. “Blake.” She isn't quite slurring the simple sounds of her name, but she's close.

“Yes, love?” Blake doesn't look away from the road, more concerned about getting them home safe. Yang doesn't take it as a slight, just waits until they're at a red light to turn down the music. “What is it?”

When Blake does glance over, she's surprised at the intensity in her eyes. “I love you more than I ever thought I could-” Yang hiccups before continuing. “-could love anyone. Ever.” She hiccups again, putting a hand to her forehead. “Fuck. I'm so drunk.” There's a pause as she stares out the window, apparently contemplating her state of sobriety. “Oh my god, what if I  _ forget _ ? Where's- where's my phone?”

“In your pocket,” Blake reminds her, amusement turning up the corners of her lips. “We double, triple checked that you have it.”

“Oh my god, you're so smart, baby.” Yang seems to rediscover that her jacket is in her lap, pulling out her phone. She opens Snapchat, sending selfies to the friends they've already dropped off. By the buzz of Blake's own phone, she sends one to Blake as well. After that, it takes her a moment to figure out the recording function, but when she does, she starts talking. “Hi, Future Yang. This is--” she laughs, seemingly for no reason “--Past Yang. I'm super drunk and  _ this  _ babe,” she says, angling the camera towards Blake, who doesn't bother to look at it, “is driving us home, and she's so smart and so pretty and dude, I love her so much. She's- fuck, she's my favorite person! And oh my god,” she drops her voice to a whisper, leaning closer to her phone, “She’s literally the love of my life and  _ don't _ tell anyone this, but I'm definitely gonna marry her.”

Blake can't help her laughter, but she tries to stifle it. Yang turns to smile at her, violet eyes bright. “Anyway, the point is, I’m never gonna love anyone as much as I love Blake.” Yang finishes her video, only saving it, not sending it.

“We're home, hon,” Blake says, pulling into her parking spot. Yang looks out the window to finally register where they are, and is immediately delighted.

“I'm- I'm gonna go sleep. So hard.” She opens her door, forgetting to unbuckle, essentially throwing herself against the seatbelt. Blake leans over to do it for her, earning herself a sigh of “Thanks” from her girlfriend. Yang manages to collect her jacket and phone, climbing out without falling. Blake follows, whispering  _ calm down, babe _ , when she gets a little noisy and unlocks the door for her. 

Yang attempts to head straight for their bed, but Blake catches her. “Love, you need to take off your makeup and drink some water first, okay?”

“Blake,” she whines, falling into Blake's arms. “I'm so tired.”

“I will get you water,” Blake says, soothingly rubbing her shoulders. “You go wash your face and everything.”

“Okay,” Yang whispers, only leaving her embrace when prompted. Blake watches her go into the bathroom to confirm she made it, then goes to the kitchen to fill up Yang's favorite water bottle. They meet in their room, Yang sitting on their bed, trying to undo the delicate strap of her shoe.

“Let me help,” Blake says, handing her the water bottle and kneeling to reach her feet. “Don't kick me,” she warns when Yang shifts. She waits for the mumbled  _ I won't _ before working the tiny buckle loose. Yang sighs happily when the shoe comes off; the sound makes Blake smile. The other shoe is just as easy for her sober hands. When she stands up, Yang beams at her.

“I love you,” she says once more.

Blake finally melts- whether it's the expression on Yang's face, the fact that they're alone, her soft heart when it comes to her girlfriend, or her exhaustion, she doesn't know. What she does know is that she can't stand not touching her for another second. It's easy to move close, kissing her forehead, sliding her hand along her jawline and into her hair. “I love you too,” she murmurs, the smile growing. “Let's change and go to bed.” She steps back to let Yang up, comforted by their usual height difference. It's something she'll never admit she likes, being smaller than Yang. In her past, it was always a disadvantage, a downfall. With Yang, it's just the way it is- nothing wrong with it. 

“Blake,” Yang says, voice low. It gets her attention for numerous reasons. “Unzip me?” she asks, as if Blake could ever deny her. Blake undoes the button at the top, drags the zipper down, and unclasps her bra for good measure. She plants a kiss between shoulder blades with a smirk as Yang physically relaxes.

By the time Blake is in her comfy clothes and ready for bed, Yang is sitting on her side of the mattress, looking like a patient pet. “You could have laid down,” Blake tells her, slipping under the covers, making sure their phones are charging and turning out the light. 

“Didn't want to fall asleep without you,” Yang sighs. As soon as she settles in, Blake can understand why. On an average night, Blake sleeps almost on top of Yang, head rested on her shoulder, curled into her warmth. Tonight, Yang nestles in with her head on Blake's chest, arm thrown lazily across her stomach, pressed as close as she can get. They're quiet in the dark, until Blake is almost asleep when Yang shifts. “I meant it,” she whispers.

“What?” Blake isn't bothered- Yang never shuts up.

“I'm gonna marry you,” she says. The quiet assurance in her voice is too attractive for Blake, especially with the way Yang's fingers play with the hem of her shirt. “I don't want you to think I'm just drunk.” She pauses, until the warmth of Blake's hand on her back prompts her. “I want you, and only you.”

“We're twenty-two, love,” Blake says in the same low tone. She can't keep the smile off of her face. “Sure you want to quit so early?”

“I don't know if it's quitting,” Yang mumbles. “I feel like I already won.” With that, her breathing changes and she falls asleep, leaving Blake with her thoughts.

_ Half of my soul _ is the only phrase coming to mind.  _ She's half of my soul. _ It should be scary, she thinks, absently considering the feeling. Or should it be? Is there anything frightening about finding someone to love? Blake runs her fingers through golden curls, glances down at her, what little she can see from her angle and the lighting, and can't find anything to be afraid of. 

  
  


Waking up alone isn't something Yang is used to- prying Blake off of her without waking her up is a morning ritual. It is nice, though, to be able to stretch completely and sit up without dislodging a sleepy girlfriend. She does just that with a big yawn. Her head hurts and she feels a little fuzzy, but nothing too bad. Blake must be in the kitchen, as something smells delicious. 

Yang leaves their bedroom, water bottle and phone in hand, but stops when she sees her. Blake stands at the stove, her dark hair shining in the sunlight. Her leggings are skin tight, clinging to her curves. The tank top she's wearing is familiar- Blake loves to steal her clothes. She's humming to whatever she has playing as she cracks an egg into the pan. For a moment, Yang feels like every molecule in her body, everything that makes her who she is, is made of love. Blake then looks up with a smile. 

“I was hoping to kiss you awake, but this works, I suppose,” she says, the teasing more gentle than anything else.

“Good morning to you too.” Yang steps close to drop a kiss on her head, surprised when she tilts her face for a real kiss. What's even more surprising is the sight of bacon in the pan. “Baby,” Yang laughs, a note of surprise in the sound. “You don't have to make me bacon, you don't even eat it.”

Blake gives her the mysterious smile she so adores. “I wanted to.” She adjusts the heat before pressing another kiss to Yang’s cheek. “Want to get us plates?”

Yang does so, gathering them from the cupboard, setting them down at the table, going back over near Blake to reach around her for silverware. Blake nudges herself close for a second, laying her head against Yang’s collarbone and closing her eyes. Yang presses her cheek to her hair, breathing in and feeling the comfort of a peaceful morning. The crackle of an almost-done egg is what parts them; Yang puts the silverware down, then refills Blake’s mug of coffee and pours her own. Blake brings their breakfast to the table, portioning out the food, sliding the bacon onto Yang’s plate. She turns back to place the dishes in the sink, smiling when Yang holds her mug out to her. They sit down together, digging in before talking.

“Did you sleep okay?” Blake asks through a mouthful of toast. She stretches her legs beneath the table, setting her foot against Yang’s calf. 

“Yeah, I feel great,” Yang says, glancing at her. “I didn’t talk in my sleep or anything, right?”

“Not that I noticed,” Blake replies.

“Good,” Yang sighs, taking another bite. “Thank you for breakfast, babe. It’s really good.”

“You’re welcome,” she says, watching Yang’s face.

When Yang raises her gaze, her brow furrows. “Why are you looking at me like that? Did I do something dumb last night?” The mysterious smile makes its return. Yang groans. “Blake, what'd I do?”

“You don't remember?” Blake loves the way Yang rolls her eyes in response to her non-answer.

“It’s fuzzy. I… I wouldn't shut up about how much I love you, I think.” She shrugs, drinking some of her coffee.

“You could say that,” Blake tells her. “Or you could check your Snapchat.”

The color drains from Yang’s face. “Babe, if you let me make a  _ fool _ of myself  _ publicly _ ,” she mutters, unlocking her phone.

Blake finally laughs, putting her hand against her mouth. “No, no, I didn’t,” she says. “I think you just saved it.”

Yang sighs, quickly finding the video. They listen to her drunk self, Blake stifling her laughter. 

“Oh my god,” Yang says, setting her phone down. “I can't even be mad at myself, because it's true.” She looks at Blake, watches how her hand drops and her smile is revealed, and knows she's right.

“It was so weird,” Blake says, shaking her head. “You wanted my attention so badly and then you said something about not wanting to forget.”

“Yeah, I know,” Yang mumbles, scrolling through photos from the night before. Blake’s eyes narrow.

“What did you not want to forget?” The question is simple, but she can tell by the way Yang stops scrolling, the way her shoulders tense -- it’s not as simple as it sounds.

“I have a thing about forgetting how I feel,” Yang says, slow. She glances at Blake, something in her eyes begging for understanding. Blake puts down her fork and reaches across the table, gently stroking the fragile skin of her wrist. “Like, my feelings are so impermanent, you know? I’m afraid that someday I won’t remember how life feels for me now. And-” she pauses, taking in a deep breath. “Um, sometimes, I think about my parents and how they were in love or something like it, but they lost it. When I was a kid, Dad would never talk about Raven, and I figured, like, he forgot what it was like to love her.” Another pause, before- “That scares me so bad,” she manages to say, voice low. 

“I didn’t know that about you,” Blake says. Her soft tone and even softer touch over Yang’s pulse is comforting; she raises her gaze to find nothing but compassion in Blake’s face.

“I've never told anyone else about it,” Yang mumbles.

“Oh, baby,” Blake sighs. “I'm so glad it’s you.” 

She doesn't really  _ mean  _ to say it; it just happens. Yang gives her a look in response, eyebrows creased. “I'm so glad it's you I'm in love with,” Blake says. Yang blushes, turns her head to hide the color of her cheeks. She knows it’s useless, knows Blake can tell; still, she shys away from the vulnerability. Blake understands. She stands up, going over to be close to her, taking Yang’s arm and setting it around her waist. Yang smiles, resting her head on Blake’s chest and wrapping her other arm around her. 

Blake knows her, knows her so well. She knows when Yang, so often the one giving comfort, needs reassurance. Yang listens to her heart beat, feels her chest moving with her lungs, and is comforted just by her existence. 

  
  


\----------------

 

“Blake,” Yang says, sitting in the chair closest to Blake; there’s something off in her voice. Blake turns her head to look at her, exhausted but willing to focus on her wife. Yang’s holding Isabelle, cradling the bundle as if the world is in her hands. She keeps her voice low, staring at her daughter’s face. “One night, we went out with our friends. You drove us and I got super drunk. Do you remember what I said?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, love,” Blake tells her, confused. “We did that a lot of times.”

“No, like, I made a Snapchat video on the way home,” Yang pauses for a laugh that sounds on the edge of tears. “And I said something, like- how I could never love anyone as much as I love you.”

“Okay,” Blake says, still unsure of what Yang is trying to express, but sensing the emotion behind it. She reaches for her, curling their fingers together once Yang shifts to hold Isabelle as well as Blake’s hand.

“I was wrong,” Yang manages to say before she starts crying. She’s obviously not distressed, just overwhelmed. All the same, Blake needs to see her smile.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she sighs. “I love you." She lets go of her hand to brush tears away; Yang nestles her cheek into her palm. “Come here,” she says, voice soft. Yang gets up, leaning against her bed. Blake moves close, setting her head on her shoulder with a sigh.

They’re content in the quiet. Yang shifts, pressing her lips to Blake’s dark hair. She hopes Blake knows how full her heart feels. (She does. She always does.)

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted to let you all know what's been going on the past few months. my senior year of high school was fucking brutal for me- may was especially bad. i went off my meds, i had finals, i was dealing with a lot, i graduated from high school. we're past that now, thank god, and now i'm in my dorm avoiding doing readings for a literature class, so really nothing has changed. i am sad that i haven't posted anything in so long, but i needed some time for myself. i wrote off and on, but mainly didn't. i'm having some issues with my own desire for perfection and tendency to compare myself to others and all that jazz, and it's really gotten in the way of my creativity. i'm working to move past it, for you and for me. thank you for being here for me.


End file.
